


for all the planets in the galaxy, and all the stars in the sky

by cranberri



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Death Note, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Yagami Light Is Not Kira (Death Note), Astronomy, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, does this count as hurt/comfort ???, near appears for just one second, pure self-indulgence and emo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29534919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cranberri/pseuds/cranberri
Summary: In a reality where space travel and intergalactic civilization are as mundane as the air we breathe, L and Light yearn for home.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	for all the planets in the galaxy, and all the stars in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> hello! it's been quite a long time since i've written anything creative or posted here at all hehe
> 
> this is my first lawlight fic, so please go easy on me! i tried my best to capture their characterizations as best as i could. the timeline here goes back and forth, but hopefully it's not too confusing ^-^

Galatea was waxing above the clouds.

L pulled his coat closer to himself, gripping the fabric as if to counter the harsh winds and biting cold. Nobody said the Cryotic planets were exactly comfortable—even if it is much warmer than it used to be a few centuries ago.

The endless night of Neptune’s northern hemisphere resembled a chasm in Europa’s deepest canyons, a void that stared right into your soul. But despite the solitude, L thought it was beautiful. The crystalline surfaces covering the streets and glossing over the daunting mountains painted a mosaic that stung L’s eyes with its marbled glow. 

—

“Neptune? Why would you want to go to _Neptune_ out of all places?”

L looked up from the screen, meeting the other’s eyes. “Well. I like the color blue.”

A laugh, almost mocking, and almost kind. “That’s a very simple reason, coming from you.”

“I’m a simple person,” L supplied with a grin. 

Light sighed, taking a seat next to him on the bed. He smelled of strawberry shampoo. _Did he switch up the toiletries again?_

“No, you aren't,” the brunet said. Such a simple phrase, uttered so nonchalantly, yet so very heavy. Light combed his fingers into L’s hair, and L instinctively leaned into the touch. “When are you leaving?”

The faint sounds of rain against the roof echoed throughout the room. L could hear the soft sizzles of melting Venusian clouds, sounding as if they were sighing in relief. 

“I didn’t say anything about leaving,” L carefully replied.

Light raised an eyebrow. “I know you didn’t. But you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”

L gave a small smile, voice growing faint as he asked, “Will you be coming with me?”

—

“The next train in the Eris line is boarding soon.”

L blinked, Nate’s voice snapping him away from his thoughts. They were indoors. A cafe, with a bowl full of floating luminescent orbs, and something sweet and sticky dripping from them. It’s warm. _When did I get here?_

L cleared his throat. “I was thinking of taking the Ceres line, actually.”

“To the Terrestrial region?” Nate asked. “Why?”

L took a spoon and scooped the gelatin at the bottom of his bowl. The fragrant smell of chocolate and raspberries filled the air. “I want to go home,” he answered, bringing the spoon to his mouth.

—

When L first met Light, he was an astronomer, a constellation mathematician with an impressive education and lineage tracing back to Jupiter’s finest minds in history. Investigating stars beyond the Oort Cloud and frozen-over planets were as familiar to him as navigating the lines on his palm. 

He had seen too much of the universe to hold any expectations of its beauty, or its inhabitants.

They’re all the same.

The rise and fall of civilizations—no matter if they’re humans from Earth or translucent glass-like beings from Aphelion—could be attributed to the primitive emotions of envy, pride, and greed. 

It’s not like L was the most positive person to begin with, anyway.

Light entered L’s life in a small elementary school located in Earth’s northern hemisphere, with wooded plants that grew pink flowers and bitter drinks made from edible leaves.

A piece of asteroid had pierced through Earth’s fragile atmosphere, striking the backyard of a school. Fortunately, there were no fatalities or injured parties. Just a crack in the ground and a chunk of metal the size of a Martian fizz melon.

L was sent to Earth to investigate the asteroid piece and determine whether or not Earth would be struck by another one (or anything bigger) anytime soon. 

He dreaded the first order of business: interviewing eyewitnesses. However, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the only person who _was_ present during the asteroid shower was a charismatic science teacher.

—

L normally found the interplanetary train rides to be quite relaxing. 

He could finally get some shut-eye after hours and hours of calculations, and even he would admit that the view from the window is always absolutely breathtaking.

However, this time, L was anxious for it to go by as quickly as possible. 

Closing his eyes, he willed himself to be drifted off to the land of dreams.

—

“So you’re telling me that you were _waiting_ for it to fall?” L inquired, not knowing how to react for the first time in years.

Light Yagami shrugged in his chair, his eyes giving off an innocent shine that looked rehearsed. “I guess. I was just watching the stars and saw them… Shaking. Before I knew it, it fell down.”

 _There’s something he’s not telling me_. 

L lifted his legs to rest his feet on the seat of his chair, resting his chin on his knees. “Stars tend to twinkle, Mr. Yagami. It’s due to the distortion of light waves in space that happens before they can reach your eyes.” L fought the urge to smirk as he raised his hand and wiggled his pointer finger back and forth. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.”

The side of Light’s mouth twitched. The shine in his eyes faltered for half a second, and he exhaled in exasperation and mock hurt. “I know I’m not very bright, Professor Lawliet. You see, I’ve never left Earth’s atmosphere—”

“I think,” L interrupted, as if Light hadn’t spoke, “that you weren’t simply stargazing, Light Yagami. You knew an asteroid was headed this way, and you managed to veer it off course. You did well, but not well enough. We have the piece to prove it.”

Light gaped at him, the shine in his eyes completely gone now. He lowered his gaze, forcing out a laugh. It sounded more like a cough. “You don’t think I’m capable of that, are you? I’m just an elementary school teacher.”

The asteroid piece sat in a glass case next to Light, gleaming as it bathed in the sunset glow.

_You don’t think you can play dumb and get away with it, don’t you? I can see right through you._

“Oh, not at all, Light,” L uttered, reclining against his chair, feet still on the seat. “I think you’re capable of much more than that.”

Light raised an eyebrow, giving him an amused expression. The air he gave off now was unrecognizable from the clueless front he wore just moments before. 

_Aha._

“So what, L?” he challenged. “Even if I _did_ pull the asteroid away from bringing Earth to its doom, which you so clearly think I’m capable of doing—thank you, by the way. I’m quite flattered—what will that do? I’m nothing but Earthian scum, according to you Jovians.”

L’s eyes widened. _Oh. I wasn’t expecting that_. 

Clearing his throat, he placed his hand in front of his chin. “So rather than giving a Jupiterian astronomer all the credit for saving Earth, even though I certainly did not, you would rather keep me in the dark about how you did it and have me going around in circles. Then I’ll have no choice but to leave this case alone so that your one victory wouldn’t be recorded in history books as another Jovian savior act.”

Light refused to meet his gaze.

Unable to resist a wry smile, L needlessly asked, “Correct?”

The sun was now dipping behind purple hills, the classroom growing darker and darker by the second. 

Light sighed again. A declaration of surrender.

_He seems to do that a lot. I wonder what goes on in that mind of his?_

“It wouldn’t matter in the long run. In a few months, years, millennia… Injustice is a constant in any world,” Light paused, letting the words hang in the air between them. “They’re all the same.”

In a dark Earthian night with no artificial light illuminating the room, for the first time in his life, L Lawliet felt truly, and utterly _seen_. 

—

L awoke with a start due to the piercing shrieks of a train whistle.

Blinking rapidly to adjust to the light, he rubbed his neck and lightly massaged it to relieve the pins and needles.

“Oh. It’s morning,” he muttered to himself, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming through the window.

L exited the platform and took a decisive breath, taking in the atmosphere that was much warmer than those of the outer planets, or the copper-flavored synthetic air of the train.

Oh, how he missed the brown trees and juicy fruits. 

_Just a hop, skip, and a jump away_.

—

L stayed in Earth for days, weeks, and eventually months. Along with Light, he crafted the most rigorous research paper on the aerial and gravitational physics of stray extraterrestrial objects and how they can be shaken off of a planet’s orbit, using newfound equations and laws perfectly demonstrated with Earthian gravity.

An academic journal that doubled as a manifesto of social justice and equal rights for not only Earthian but the entirety of the Terrestrial population. Topped with a harsh critique of the Jovian-centric nature of the Solar System’s science field and how internal biases and the underestimation of their own neighbors is the reason why their technology and education was the most far behind in the Milky Way Galaxy.

They changed the world.

They were joined at the hip and couldn’t let go.

They moved in together, a process that grew so organically it surprised both of them.

Soon after, Light Yagami was appointed as the Earthian ambassador of education and astrophysics, and travelling the galaxy for seminars and research.

Meanwhile, L left the astronomy field and pursued civil law, discovering that he was far more interested in solving the problems of social conflict than cracking equations of the stars.

After years of journeying the universe and beyond by each other’s side, they still wanted more.

What started off as a mutual passion for change sparked by their clashing yet complementing personalities, slowly but surely turned into bitter aftertastes during dinner and minuscule disagreements that snowballed into screams.

Quirks and cryptic gestures that they had found endearing and interesting about each other soon became the trigger to a bomb.

“How _dare_ you?! Wasn’t this exactly what you promised me you wouldn’t turn into?” Light hissed, standing up from his seat abruptly.

L pursed his lips. “You’re jumping to conclusions. If anything, you’re the one getting a big head,” he countered, coolly plucking a fruit slice from a bowl in front of him.

Light laughed harshly, causing L to recoil. “A big head? At least I’ve kept mine. You decided to throw yours away when you finally caved into your Jovian superiority complex.”

_My Deities, you’re irritating._

“If you’re talking about a superiority complex, how about you look in the mirror for once?” L snapped. “You’re _obsessed_ with what people think of you and roll your eyes at anyone you deem below you. You can’t fool me with your _greater good_ bullshit.”

Light froze, stunned to silence. Anyone else would have missed how his eyes shook for a split second.

_Maybe that was too far…_

“Lawliet,” Light began, his voice cold as ice, “scratch what I said. You don’t want to save people. You’re looking for puzzles. For games to play. The moment you met me was the most exciting thing to have happened to you in years. You were at the top of your game, and _counting_ just didn’t do it for you anymore, did it? Oh, figuring _me_ out, a lowly Earthian who's smarter than _most_ unintelligent, frivolous Terrestrials, must’ve been the most fun you’ve had in your _entire life!_

“Oh, but it doesn’t stop there. All the privilege the Solar System could ask for meant that you couldn't have known about Terrestrial suffering. You didn’t _care_ for the systemic bullshit your planet enforced on us. No, no. At least, not until you witnessed it firsthand. And now, social justice is your new plaything! If you lose _this_ kind of game, you’re gonna lose more than you _ever_ did working with stars and planets. Now, you risk an _entire life being ruined!_ The higher the stakes, the more _fun_ , right?”

L was standing now. “Stop it.”

“You don’t like playing with things that you’ve got down pat, don’t you? Aw, is that why you stopped fucking—”

“ _I SAID STOP IT!!_ ” L yelled at the top of his lungs, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. 

Light jerked back, stepping backwards involuntarily. His chest was heaving, and he refused to meet L’s eyes.

“You know,” L said, “I believed… I truly believed that you taught me compassion.”

Closing his eyes, he pushed back the stinging behind his eyelids. He could care less about the expression on Light’s face at that moment.

“You care about yourself more than anything. You like that you’re getting attention from Jovians and that they look up to you. They lick your boots clean and look at you like the Sun shines out of your ass because _you’re a liar_.

“You’re the biggest hypocrite of them all. Manipulation and acting is second nature to you because you needed it to survive. Now, you use it to squeeze every last drop of temporary validation you can from anyone you come across. I believe that you _used_ to believe in creating a perfect world—however unrealistic and incredibly grandiose that is—because you _did_ care for the people who needed that perfect world. But now—” 

Light had the gall to interrupt him. “L, let’s stop this right now.”

“Don’t. Don’t you _dare_ , Light Yagami. We’re not sleeping it off this time.”

“Please. This is exhausting for no reason.”

 _Still not looking_. “But now,” L enunciated, picking up where he left off, “you’re not even thinking of Earth when you step up on stage and give the same speech every single time. You don’t think of anyone but yourself. You don’t _love_ anyone but yourself.”

At this, Light audibly gasps. He laughed shakily. “That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

L finally looked at him. 

_Oh._

Light resembled a hurt puppy, lips trembling and eyes glassy. For a second, L truly did feel apologetic.

_No. This is an act._

“L… What are you saying?”

_It must be._

“You don’t love me, do you?” L asked, voice as quiet as a pin drop.

_Right?_

“What?” Light breathed out, his voice unrecognizable. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Do you love me?”

_Ah… This hurts. This hurts so much. I want to go to sleep. Can’t we just get it over with, Light?_

To L’s horror, Light kept his mouth shut. His expression was unreadable, and L couldn't be bothered to pry.

“I see,” L said, voice breaking. “Okay. I understand.”

L turned around, and the world started to fade. He didn’t realize he had been crying.

The rest of the night went by like a mountain breeze, cold and silent and not unlike the calm before a storm. 

The storm never came. The breeze simply came and went, but L's bones never ceased to shiver from the cold.

—

L stood on grass, the air around him smelling like Earthian rain and dirt. 

He felt uneasy. Afraid, anxious, apprehensive. 

_What am I going to say?_

The building was falling apart. The paint peeled at the walls and the windows were cloudy, making it look like the inside was full of nothing but smoke.

L shivered, remembering the first time he visited the place.

It was so long ago.

L walked towards the backyard and felt his throat hitch when he saw a familiar head of brown hair and steady, serene eyes. They were softer than he’d remembered. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass, a telescope next to him as he scribbled in a notebook.

The moonlight casted him a glow that made L’s heart ache, and all of a sudden he was five years younger. He was almost embarrassed of how much power the other had always had over him.

L breathed shakily. “Light…”

The brunet startled and lifted his head. His eyes widened in surprise and awe, the shine in them not unlike bright Neptunian cities.

“L.”

—

“Will you be coming with me?”

“Hm… No. You go ahead.”

The bed creaked as Light stood back up.

L gave him a dubious look. Hesitating, he inquired, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I think you should go.”

After Light had fallen asleep, looking at peace and at ease for the first time in years, L planted a kiss on his forehead before slipping away into the chilling night.

—

L felt something bubble up in his throat, his thoughts and emotions running marathons in his head. 

_It’s been exactly a year_.

_I’ve had a year to prepare and I still don’t know what to say to you._

Light gestured towards a spot next to him and asked, “Do you… Want to sit?”

L’s brain short-circuited. “Grass is kind of gross.”

They stared at each other blankly for a few moments before Light burst out in laughter. 

“Come on, don’t be a coward. You can dust yourself off after,” Light insisted, beckoning L over.

Giving in, L gingerly walked towards him and took a seat, folding his legs to mirror his position. Light gave a small smile and continued his note-taking. L could see that he was jotting down numbers in an equation that filled an entire page.

“Signal constellation?” L asked.

“Sharp as ever, you are,” Light confirmed. “I’ve always loved the stars from Earth. There’s always small changes to them every year. Each stargazing session is unique, yet… Most people can’t tell the difference.”

At that, L chuckled. “The obligatory self ego boost, huh?”

“Boo, party pooper. You don’t need to mock me every time I express interest in something,” Light argued without venom. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

L allowed himself a toothy grin. “Fair enough. By the way, your math is off on the third line.”

Light furrowed his eyebrows. He lifted his notebook closer to his face to check, and then groaned not a second later. “You’re messing with me.”

L stuck out his tongue, eyes squinting. “Boo, _you’re_ the party pooper.”

Light punched him limply on the shoulder, huffing in mock hurt. L tilted his head, sneaking a good look at the other’s face. 

_Oh my. He’s a lot more handsome than I remembered._

“Who’re you staring at?” Light teased, going back to his notebook.

The world seemed to stand still on its axis, and the mountain breeze from L’s memories and dreams returned. Though this time, rather than a chill winter, it was a light summer wind.

It was weird, to say the least.

Here they were, stargazing on Earth, initiating playful banter as if they haven’t refused to contact each other in what felt like an eternity.

“I’m sorry,” L said.

Light’s pen abruptly stopped in its tracks, but he still didn't look up.

L took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for everything. For what I said, for making you feel like I didn’t care.”

Expectant silence.

“I came back here to look for you. And I’m here to tell you… That I love you.”

At this, Light lifted his head. 

L felt naked under his gaze. Exposed, predictable, and meek. Yet so very strong. 

_Here goes nothing._

Slowly, he said, “For all the planets in the galaxy, and all the stars in the sky… The only home I would ever want to come back to is you. I still love you, and I want to keep saying it.”

Light’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. His eyes were the twinkling stars in the sky.

L prepared for a gentle rejection. Perhaps a laugh, even. A “sorry, L, I don’t feel it anymore,” because who in their right mind would want to go back with someone they haven’t spoken to for _a year?_

What he didn’t expect was to be pushed to the ground by the shoulders and kissed on the lips, long and hard.

Light tasted like butterflies and sunsets and smelled like strawberries.

_Oh, I've missed you so much it hurts._

“Wh—Light?” L sputtered as Light pulled away, breathless.

“You _idiot!_ ” Light exclaimed, his hands shaking at L’s sides. He was crying.

L instinctively reached out to wipe his tears. 

“Why didn’t you write to me?” Light asked in between sobs, leaning into L’s touch.

“I’m sorry, Light. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Deities, how did you even _find_ me here?” 

L sat back up, touching his and Light’s foreheads together for a moment.

“Word was going around that Ambassador Yagami has retired,” L explained, cupping Light’s cheek with one hand. “I figured I would find you here.”

Light sighed, sounding absolutely exhausted. “L… You are so… Annoying.”

L nodded in thought, averting his gaze to the sky. “Well, you _are_ just as stubborn as I am.”

Light’s expression softened in realization.

“Why didn’t you write to _me?_ ” L asked.

Light rested his hands on the small of L’s back. “I wanted to hear from you first,” he answered. “Just in case you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Well, so did I,” L argued, forcing a laugh into the words. He ended up sounding more hurt than amused.

“I thought you erased me. And that would’ve been understandable, L, really… I said… Some _nasty_ things… While being an asshole to boot,” Light explained. 

L pouted. “Well, so did I,” he repeated himself, barely above a whisper this time.

“Hey, no,” Light protested, lightly tapping L’s nose with his finger, “this is _my_ monologue and confession. I had an entire year to think about this.”

L laughed, unable to resist the warm fondness spreading in his chest. “Okay, okay. Go on.”

Light exhaled. “You were right. I had _some_ visions that were larger than life itself. Larger than you and I both. I started to think I was a lot more than I really was—really _am_. And no sugarcoating it, I managed to do a lot. L, I wouldn’t have _dreamed_ of leaving Earth, let alone explore the Andromeda galaxy or the Trappist System. 

“I did what I could. People everywhere are the same, right? No. They’re not. Big surprise. And it made me realize that _I can’t control everything_. The world is going to be rotten no matter what changes are done by the people in charge. Because that’s the nature of intelligent life. We’ll continue to fight, we’ll continue to fall and make mistakes, we’ll continue to fuck up.

“But what I _should_ do is stay within the realms of what I _can_ control. Instead of trying to change the entire Solar System, I’ll open my own school—heck, I'll reopen _this_ school and educate the people who'll be in charge in the future. About how the universe works and what they can do to make it a better place. About what mistakes they're going to make and what they should be prepared for. 

“I’m going off the rails here. But the point is… I’m sick and tired of not being able to do anything. I was on top of the world but it felt like I was drowning, L. And you know what? I just wanted to go home. I was _tired_. I wanted to be with you. I just want to be with you. You told me that you thought I taught you compassion, but it was _you_ who taught me about what it means to truly _live_.”

Light breathed out in relief, and even L could feel the weight disappear from his shoulders. The younger gazed at him, eyes shining like serene waters. 

“I love you, L Lawliet,” Light said. “And I’m so, so sorry. For everything.”

L was speechless. 

In front of him was the man who ripped the skies and crushed the land underneath him, who painted the stars and waltzed on them under the light of Ganymede. L had watched him crack through his carefully crafted facade, slowly learning and taking in every bit of information about him like he was a sample in a lab. He wanted so badly to fully understand the inner workings of Light Yagami, the man who shattered planets and created galaxies.

The more he pore into Light’s mind and his mannerisms—things anyone else would miss, separated from his skill of maneuvering through life like lightning in a storm—the more L found out about just how flawed he was. Just how imperfect, emotional, and _human_ he really was.

For every little instance that Light would tick him off, be it intentional or not, L would find another reason to adore him. For the most insignificant, subtle things that Light himself probably wouldn’t notice. From the telling glint in his eyes, to the care he puts into combing his hair in _just the right_ angle (L had always told him didn’t matter, to which Light retorted with a winded rant about how hair is the single most determining factor in first impressions), to the genuine laughs that only L gets the pleasure of hearing, and the way he squeezes L’s hand as if he would disappear if he let go.

As Light looked at him expectantly, wearing an expression of uncertainty, hope, and dread all at once, L wondered to himself.

_How did I ever manage to be apart from you?_

He took Light's hand in his and pressed their foreheads together.

“I’m not letting you go ever again,” L promised, voice as soft as a cloud.

“Neither am I,” Light answered, all glassy eyes and smiles.

L sighed as he closed the space between them once more.

Under the dark Earthian night sky, two souls, having traversed galaxies and beyond, finally come to rest as winds, grass, and constellations danced around them in a steady rhythm.

—

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> i didn't expect to actually finish this one, it started off as just an idea i had in my head while i was in class T-T
> 
> i apologize for any mistakes/mischaracterizations, i'll try my best to improve in the future!
> 
> hmu @nebularianism on on twitter and tumblr!


End file.
